The Suffering
by Crowfeather's Dream
Summary: BloodClan has won, and the forest cats have been driven into hiding to escape from Scourge's merciless rule. But how long can they live this way, when they are surrounded on all sides by those who crave their blood?


**Huzzah, I'm not dead! The next chapter of Mate Swap is almost complete, this is just another side-story for now for when I can't get any ideas straight in my head. Summer has begun, so that means more time to do absolutely nothing but write! Well, maybe some other things xD**

**This story is basically** **a warrior-ized Halocaust. BloodClan have occupied the forest, and the forest cats are on the run to avoid being thrown into what Scourge calls his "correctional facilities". There are no real Allegiances anymore, since the Clans have merged into on Clan. I will probably make a list of all the survivors later, I just had to get this plot bunny out before I exploded. Enjoy!**

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All was dark. Even the moon, which was full tonight, was covered by swirling black clouds. Far off in the distance, thunder rumbled across the skies, followed by a quick flash of lightning. A storm was coming, and coming in fast. Already, it had began to rain. This sprinkling, however, did not affect the two figures trekking steadily across the moors.

"I don't know why Scourge has us on yet _another _scouting trip," one of them, a huge black and white tom, hissed in disgust as he stepped into a belly-deep puddle of murky water.

"Quiet, Bone," the other muttered, glancing wearily over his shoulder. "He has his spies everywhere."

"Don't tell me to be quiet, Fowl," Bone snarled coldly. "I'm your deputy."

_Then keep your wits about you, and don't complain in such an open area, _the brown tom thought irritably, though he had enough common sense not to voice his opinion. After all, he had heard about what Bone had done to the deputy of LionClan, that fool Whitestorm, as the forest cats called him. A smirk touched his battle scarred face. It was good that Bone wasn't completely useless.

While the pair of toms marched silently off into the distance, a dark gray head peered out from behind a bush. The rain had masked his scent, but soon, the light drizzle would become a downpour. He had to get back to the others before he got stuck out here.

And so, with a last glance at the fading forms of the BloodClan patrol, Rainpaw raced off in the opposite direction as thunder crashed loudly overhead.

**XxxXxXxXx**

The rain was coming down in icy sheets, as lighting flashed across the sky. A few cats milled about at the entrance to a cavern, hunching their ragged shoulders up against the fierce winds that blew mercilessly at their backs.

"Where's Rainpaw?" one of them shouted, his question almost lost in the fierce wind. The other two shrugged and exchanged worried glances.

"We should have known not to send him," one of them growled. "He's hardly an apprentice!"

"Who else was there?" The remaining cat, a queen with pale ginger fur, snapped at him. "We can send you next time, since you're so ready to criticize. At least he was willing to go!"

"Shut up, the both of you," the first tom spat, his smoky black fur beginning to bristle. When the other two glared at him and pointedly turned their backs to one another, he snorted. "ThunderClan and ShadowClan!" he murmured under his breath.

Suddenly, the ginger she-cat pricked her ears and leaned forward in excitement. "I see him!" she cried, motioning with her paw to the east, all the while casting a smug glance at the ShadowClan tom.

Rainpaw staggered into the mouth of the cave, shaking like a leaf with water pouring from his pale gray fur. His sides were heaving, and he sank to the ground, gasping for breath. He had sprinted all the way from the moors to Mothermouth, terrified that the BloodClan patrol would finally catch his scent and come after him.

"What's the news?" The black tom asked impatiently.

Rainpaw glanced up at him. "Scourge knows about us," he rasped, straightening up slightly as the three warriors watched him like ravenous hawks. "But you know about that already."

"So tell us something we don't know," the ShadowClan warrior said in a testy voice. Rainpaw and the ginger she-cat glared at him.

"I was _getting there_, Oakfur. While Scourge is still determined to catch us, his warriors are losing faith in his determination to prove that we're still here."

"So the rest of BloodClan think we are finished?" The RiverClan tom asked, excitedly leaning forward.

"Yep. What do you think, Sandstorm?" The apprentice swung his head about to face the she-cat.

She blinked at him. "While it is good news they are losing faith in their leader," she meowed slowly, "Scourge can control them like a twoleg controls its dogs. Even if they don't believe we're still around, he'll force them to keep looking until he's proven wrong."

"Or until we're found," the RiverClan tom whispered softly. The others pretended they had not heard him.

"We should get back to Blackstar," Sandstorm sighed, looking out over the stormy lands. In a sad voice, she added, "He's the only one among us who has the authority to do anything anymore." She glanced to her swollen belly and felt her heart swell with pain as she remembered watching Firestar die. How would her kits ever know what a magnificent tom he had been?

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**Oh, so Blackstar's the leader of all of the Clans now, that should turn out to be fairly interesting. The last line that Sandstorm thinks is stemmed from Steel Magnolias, which is an excellent movie.  
**


End file.
